Amy on writing


Light streams through my plexiglass walls like molten fractals of violent sun.

Days of nowhere and smudgy hands shake my world and all is lost.

Go ahead and stare.

Splinter me down by a single delicate toe and I’ll articulate my arms to bygone melodies.

I’ll spin and spin until the blackness falls and my head bows to the floor.

Go ahead and dance pretty girl.

Tap the glass and close the box for I am none of those things.

Cheers all! This one’s for everyone who needs reminding that they are welcome to tell themselves to fuck off!

We are our own worst critics…

Write on writers! I’m gonna.


Painting: oil on canvas by me.

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